In Memory. . . Once Upon A Time. . . .

Still with talk across the dinner table I asked this philosopher-legal how my philosophy sounded to his professional ear.  Well, he said, it is not new and I have heard it before,  Plato, for instance.  Uncredentialed and unbelieving, I still gulp.  In memory, this day, of his leaving this Earth, we consider ourselves forever privileged to have known him as David Hallissey.

Once upon a time. . . .

As before, this is going to start out once upon a time when humans took form, there was an openness about them that we say was almost biblical.  Until the fig leaf was needed.

When man first walked he knew from where he came.  It was a large picture he held.  In the classic Iliad, the gods involved with the physical characters were in various stages of growth.  Both gods and angels created.

What is considered myth by the educated was really an openness that was not a something everyone enjoyed.  There was a time when it was but came the nemesis of dis-ease, of fear, of flight and of desire and the brain’s doors were closed.

To this day a handful of mavericks with open heads are employed, scattered among the populace wearing the costumes of the day.  They are depended on heavily.

What should have been a rapid rate of growth is a snail’s pace.   The grinding of the mills is studious, well intentioned not to upset those who cannot handle the subject at all.

Survival has become the prime reason for being.  Just to breathe and keep living being goal for both animal and human.  One does not change horses in the middle of the stream unless the horse becomes too painful to ride and rides the rider.  Change is then necessary.

Genetic manipulation has the strongest surviving.  The how must answer in the head of the one needing to know.  The picture of this planet must be a priority when negotiating for changes.  This is the school for learning the rudiments of behavior for universal existence.

We broaden the premise from earth life to life elsewhere, other worlds.  If a closed physical system is preferred and we all transit, more thought must be given to where.

If nothing but clouds are in mind, we must consider harp lessons since heaven is waitlisted with guitar players.

Overheard . . .                                                                                    

I hear them say. . .

I cannot follow
what she says all the time.

And you say. . . 

I don’t either all the time,
so don’t blame yourself. . .

But then I hear. . .

But she says things I know are true
and I think I only
could know them. . .

And you say. . .

that is why she can say
what only you know to be true,
because she has been
to all these places
we don’t understand . . .

And you say. . .

I can only wonder how long
it took all those doors

to open for her. . .




7 responses to “In Memory. . . Once Upon A Time. . . .”

  1. Blessings on your memories and on your love, both given and received. And blessings on the souls who, so long ago, “got” what you spoke about. You fed them.

    Much love,

    • Catherine, it was a poignant time and still palpable. The awe comes with an intake of breath when memory is rich with meaning. Thank you for telling us.

  2. email from Pat and Bill. . . It is a very good memory today as fresh as it was yesterday.


    Pat and Bill

      • Mark, his connection to all was a cosmic one. Still working because we who knew him still work diligently. Presses us to make a difference yet. Keeping on.

    • Pat and Bill, all time is simultaneous. It was yesterday. Nothing else can be understood until that phrase takes root. Thank you for telling us.

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